The Young Man's Heart
by whisperabovethestorm
Summary: "Seeing Past Dean was startling. I had forgotten how full of hope and passion he once was. I had forgotten how much I had thrived off that." Set during The End. 2014! Cas as narrator.


**WOW it's been a while! **

**Hey guys! **

**So a lot had happened since I last posted. I have been growing increasingly frustrated with Jane in the Mentalist so I decided I need to write something for another fandom.**

**Behold! My first Supernatural post!**

**It's from Cas's perspective which was a little scary to write but I did my best. **

**Thank you** fightsoftly** for editing this for me! You are amazing!**

**Enjoy!**

**I own nothing**

-SG-SG-

_What ever happened to the young man's heart_  
_Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart_

_45: Shinedown_

-SG-SG-

Past Dean. 2009 Dean.

He was almost difficult to look at.

It hurt to know what this man would turn into. What he was going to become.

I rebelled because of what I saw in Dean's heart. I wanted to help him. He lived with this amazing passion for people. If there was a way to save everyone, even if the odds were slim, he would die trying. Saving people was what he lived for.

It was his brother saying yes to the devil that broke him.

We had been tracking the Colt down in Florida when we heard about the deaths in Detroit. In the stream of pictures from the scene we saw Lucifer's vessel Nick lying limp on the ground with Sam walking away wearing twisted a smile on his face.

Dean and I immediately got into the Impala and headed northwest. He tried calling his brother on his phone, but there was never any answer. Bobby hadn't heard anything from Sam either.

When we reached Detroit, the first thing we did was try to find the location we had seen in the picture. I tried to tell Dean he probably wouldn't like what he found but he wouldn't hear any of it. I suppose, looking back, I never really expected him to_. _

Down an alley near where the photo was taken there was a message written on the walls in spray paint.

_Dean,_

_I just thought I'd let you know that I said 'Yes'. You abandoned me Dean. This is your fault. Now I dare you to stop me._

_Your Brother,_

_Sam_

Dean fell to his knees at the sight of it. I had never seen his spirit so wrecked before. He slammed his fists into the ground until they began to bleed. I tried to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that the words on the wall were not his brother's but Lucifer's. He told me to just leave; there was something he had to do.

I knew what it was. He wanted to say 'yes' to Michael. I brought him to Bobby's before he could act on his impulses and told him that he shouldn't make any decisions until his head had cleared. I did not know how else to help him.

I was too young to fully remember Lucifer's fall and I do not remember how I felt about it. I do however remember the reactions of my brothers and sisters. Anna didn't talk. Gabriel left. Michael…

Michael was heartbroken.

After the incident in Detroit, Dean's obsession with finding the Colt became unhealthy. He didn't eat much. He barely slept. Even so, wherever we went, the Colt always seemed to slip through our fingers.

Meanwhile, demons began swarming. They were everywhere. Lucifer was letting them roam free. Bobby began to pick up signs that Lucifer was trying to brew up some of the Croatoan virus. Dean ignored it. He said that if we could find the Colt and kill the Devil, the production of the virus would stop.  
Instead, Jo and Ellen went to go look at the place. They never made it out.

Before their deaths Dean had been angry at everything but afterwards he grew completely numb, and if possible, even more motivated to take down Lucifer.

The virus was released a year later.

The world began to fall apart and it brought Dean with it. All the people he had pledged to save were dying.

A few months later he yelled to the skies that he gave up. That he says yes. He would be Michael's meat suit.

But the angels weren't answering.

I started to notice the change soon after the virus began to spread. I was growing weaker. I needed sleep and food. Cuts were taking longer and longer to heal. My mojo, as Dean calls it, was fading faster each day. When I told Dean, he just laughed. I am only now beginning to understand why he found it funny.

By the time I was fully human, a group of survivors set up camp at a place called Camp Chitaqua. I had gotten rid of the trench coat in favor more practical garments. Dean had started to teach me how to use guns.

One day after coming back from a mission to Bobby's house I found out that Dean had shot Bobby point blank. The old man had been infected. Dean didn't even flinch. It was then I realized just how far my friend had fallen.

I realized he didn't really care about anything anymore. Not Bobby. Not the Impala (which was now rusting away in the middle of the camp). Not me.

I looked around the camp. Everything I rebelled for was now gone. The planet was in chaos. Humans were dying. My brothers had left. And Dean, my friend Dean, the Dean I rebelled for, the Dean I pulled out of Hell, was gone. What was left was an empty shell of a man who saw himself as a failure to everything and everyone. The only thing he felt he had left was finding the Colt.

Something inside of me cracked. I don't know if it was my grace or my soul or something else. I had never felt so useless and defeated. I started drinking. Doing drugs. Women. Dean raised an eyebrow at me once but he never said anything about it.

Chuck, who had wandered into the camp not long after we had, tried talking to me about it. He seemed genuinely concerned. I admit, out of everyone in the camp, only Chuck managed to remain hopeful one hundred percent of the time. Even though the angels had stopped talking to him long ago he still went on as if he knew things were going to change for the better. I envied him for that.

I continued to help Dean on his missions. He was still my friend and I still cared about him, even when he would sacrifice his men for the sake of the mission. I decided that if Dean didn't care, why should I?

Seeing Past Dean was startling. I had forgotten how full of hope and passion he once was. I had forgotten how much I had thrived off that. The look on his face when he saw me almost made me feel ashamed of who I had become.

Hearing Past Dean talking to Now Dean about Risa and Jane made me genuinely smile for the first time in a long time. When he reproached his future self for using torture to get to the truth I couldn't help but laugh.

That was the Dean I had wanted to follow to the end.

I didn't want him at the showdown. I didn't want him to die. I wanted to protect this Dean the way I used to before the fall of the world. But there was no arguing with Now Dean. Something I had learned a while ago.

I was glad when Past Dean decided to ride in my truck into the city. It was good to talk to him again. I told him I wasn't an angel anymore and that my identity was all but gone. I told him everything I had wanted to tell him for years now because I knew that this Dean would care. This Dean gave a crap about his friends. He looked sad and a little guilty as I spoke and gave a quiet apology when I had finished. We didn't speak for the remainder of the trip.

Now Dean told us the plan for getting into the building. He said they'd never see us coming. It was a lie but I didn't say anything. He wanted us to be a distraction. It was likely we would all die, but at least we'd go down fighting. Besides, even if Now Dean did succeed in killing the Devil, which I wasn't sure he would, what would I do then? Where would I go? There would be nowhere on Earth for a fallen, washed-up angel.

Past Dean caught onto the lie as well. Now Dean knocked him out for trying to stop him from sacrificing us which was probably for the best. I wondered if Now Dean had even told him about what happened to Sam.

Past Dean said Zachariah was planning on bringing him back to his own time. Maybe things would change because of what he saw here. I hoped they would. And I had learned through the years that if anyone can overcome the odds, it's that Dean. Hopeful Dean. Passionate Dean.

And as I motioned for the team to enter the slaughter house, I prayed for the first time in a long time. I prayed for Dean.

-SG-SG-

**Thank you so much for reading! It's been a while since I've written anything be gentle! **


End file.
